Rain rattled the windows. An elderly man on a mobility scooter urged his machine a little faster across the wet grey car park. I sighed.
I had driven all the way to west Wales for a microadventure with some of the guys from howies. They had never slept a night in a bivvy bag and looked a little reluctant to start now. I had slept many nights in a bivvy bag and was very reluctant to add to my tally in this weather.
But we persisted. And that is the key to doing almost anything interesting in life. You’ve just got to do it. Team howies turned off their computers and shut down the office. We began.
Ade, Alex, Ruben and I pedalled through the damp, grey town, through a heavy rain shower or two. And then we were out into the fresh air and brighter skies of the countryside. Wet hedgerows sparkled in the sunshine as we stretched our legs and cheered at the feeling of racing down a quiet road towards the coast.
The roads became smaller and narrower and quieter. We turned up a bridleway laden with blackberries. Up and over a hill then racing like mad little things through exciting singletrack and down to the coast. We were just in time. The sky was heavy grey. The sea had a strange deep purple sheen. But between the sea and the sky blazed a brilliant golden sunset. We were so happy to be out here.
Seals bobbed quietly below us. Alex observed that we had been riding for only as long as his normal car-bound boring drive home. He had swapped his daily commute for a bike ride, a fabulous sunset and the open sea. And -for one night only- this was home. We unrolled bivvy bags in a grassy clifftop hollow. Hidden from the wind, open to the sea and the stars. We ate and drank and chatted and then we lay down to sleep.
I lay awake for a good while, enchanted by the clouds rolling above us. A lighthouse beat its regular rhythm through the night. Each time I woke in the night I noticed the stars moving above us. The Big Dipper was so bright and distinct it looked as though it had been painted bright onto the sky above.
To my relief it did not rain and we woke refreshed and happy. Espresso, a clifftop view, and a stonking singletrack downhill makes for a happy start to a day.
Follow that with a swim in the sea and a bacon sandwich and you really do have all the necessary ingredients for a short, sharp microadventure.
All this, all this in just those hours we waste so often, the hours between finishing a hard day’s work and beginning the next one.
Try it.
Try it.
Try it.
You won’t regret it.
(Unless it rains!)
Hmpf…
I wish I hadn’t read this just before setting out to collect someone from Manchester Airport (130 mile round trip) at 8pm…
Wow! For the price of that round trip you could have bought them a bike for them to transport themselves!
Ha ha, she arrived from Colombia (18 hours; 3 flights) to stay for a year, I’m sure cycling was the last thing on her mind!
I’m writing this looking at the clouds clearing to see the stars on my own microadventure. Cycling the way for the millennium ( 42 mile path ) and then back in a loop back home for breakfast prob around 80 ish miles total . Night night.
Nothing better than clouds clearing to reveal the stars above. Hope you had a good night out there.
Getting inspirations from your articles, I am venturing out more and more on my own micro-adventures, which basically revolve around taking my dogs out, one at a time, on day-long hikes. My pictures always have landscapes with leash of the dogs in the foreground, dog(s) in the centre, and the scene in the background 🙂
Thank you for sharing.
Good stuff Saul- keep at it!
On a different note did anyone watch The Wildest Dream: Conquest of Everest?
Still on BBCiPlayer and worth a watch!
Follows George Mallory’s attempt back in the 1920’s, very impressive..
Im envious of not having the opportunity to live in this era with its unspoilt adventure.
excellent little video as always – but I think you need to give those Howies boys some tips on going lightweight!
On my last off road “overnight with the bike” trip I tried a Blizzard Bag for the first time instead of a sleeping bag and a bivy bag, 385g all in and was plenty warm enough. Got all my kit for 2 days with 4 meals in a 20 litre Alpkit Gourdon and a little drybag strapped to the bars
Noted! I have always found that however little stuff I take out, I only use half of it. I need to get better at predicting which half is useless.